


Even Robots Need Blankets

by summerdownturn



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Blind Character, Canon-Typical Violence, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Grief/Mourning, Loss, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Post-Recall, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-25
Updated: 2020-04-25
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:07:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,277
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23830558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/summerdownturn/pseuds/summerdownturn
Summary: It was an itch in the back of his mind, a what-if that suddenly became reality all too soon. Ange had warned him years ago, but a stupid decision led to Jesse losing his vision. Now Jesse has to figure out how to deal with his new situation, but Hanzo won't let him do it alone.
Relationships: Jesse McCree/Hanzo Shimada
Comments: 7
Kudos: 45





	Even Robots Need Blankets

**Author's Note:**

> Howdy! This was kinda inspired by Eyes to See by Akiko_Natsuko over here on AO3, where I couldn't get the idea of blind Jesse out of my head. I have no idea where this is going but I enjoy writing it, so I hope you enjoy it too! I recently have been diagnosed with a physical disability and this is kind of me pouring that grief out.

“Jesse?” A gruff voice, accented. Worried. Hanzo. “Jesse, can you hear me?”

Jesse cracked a smile, the only sign that he was awake. “I’m blind, Han, not deaf.”

He could hear Genji chuckle next to Hanzo, and Jesse finally opened his eyes to see… well, not much. Shadows and brief glimpses of light were all that he could make out. There were two figure-like shapes standing next to his bed he assumed were the Shimadas.

There was a thwack of metal being hit, and he assumed Hanzo had hit his brother. Jesse imagined the red staining Hanzo’s cheeks in embarrassment, the annoyed scowl on his face, and for the first time since he arrived in the medbay, he felt incredibly sad. He put on a brave face, though, as these were the first visitors he had been allowed all week.

“Tch. I am glad being injured has not spoiled your humor.” The voice came to him sarcastically, and Jesse saw the movement of Hanzo crossing his arms.

“When has it?” Jesse joked back, shifting in the bed so he was propped up and facing his company. He could feel the slight tension in the air as he moved, the hovering of hands that he swatted away, only meeting air. “‘m fine, ‘m fine. They ain’t that bad.” Jesse said, referring to his other injuries he had sustained on the mission. None of them mentioned the two bullet wounds nor the bruises that he had come back with, the black eye, split lip, broken nose. The list could go on, really.

“If you say so,” Genji said cautiously, and Jesse winced because he could only imagine how bad he looked. He wondered if he looked worse now than when they had found him. The mission was supposed to be easy. In and out with fairly little casualties. Perfect job for an archer and two former Blackwatch agents. But they hadn’t expected Talon to be there at one of their smaller contracted associates’ locations. The mission suddenly wasn’t that simple.

The only reason they had managed to escape was because of their abilities. Jesse had gotten separated from the brothers, but he could hear their Dragons roaring to life close by. He quickly made his way over to them, but several Talon agents stood in his way. He ran out of flashbangs and was short on ammo, but the agents kept on coming. He needed to get to Hanzo and Genji and get to the extraction point.

Six bullets left in his revolver. Peacekeeper was steady in his hand as he lifted her up and aimed from behind the wall keeping him covered, peeking around to see his targets. The world went colorless for a moment, before bright red blossomed in his vision. Six bullets, six skulls. But if he waited just a moment longer, another would be in position behind one of the others in his sight… He waited, eyes burning, vision getting more and more red, until he fired.

_“It’s high noon…”_

And then, there was black. Seven bodies hit the floor. Eight, if you counted Jesse, who backed up against the wall, panic overtaking him. He could hear footsteps coming towards him, and Jesse lashed out when they came too close. Peacekeeper was tight in his hold and soon cracked against someone’s skull. He hoped it wasn’t Genji or Hanzo, but he knew that their footsteps were much softer. He was right to assume this was an enemy, however, when someone knocked him to the ground.

Jesse lost grip on his revolver, and he tried to kick his way towards where she had flung, but he was being grappled by at least two men holding him down. The first blow took him by surprise, a hit to the gut that knocked the wind out of him for a moment. Another hit to the back of the head before he managed to flip over and hit back. He would like to think that he got a couple good hits in, but the fists pummeling him would say otherwise. Whatever punch he landed was being brought back tenfold.

He reached out, suddenly realizing that these men were carrying guns, ones he could potentially get a hand on and use. But before he could do that, a commotion broke out in the hall. Jesse heard several thuds hitting the floor next to him, and the thwip of arrows. He let out a small laugh that turned into a wheeze, and Jesse could definitely taste blood in his mouth. There was still a man or two on top of him, and Jesse continued to reach around their waist for a gun. He felt a pistol underneath his grasp for a moment, before it was suddenly taken away.

Another body hit the floor next to him. Jesse reached up the arm of his assailant, trying to grab the firearm or at least, to disarm him. Managing to flip them on their side, Jesse and the man wrestle for the gun. Being at a disadvantage to the man on his back, he tried to keep the man underneath or to the side of him, but he knew that put Hanzo at a disadvantage with killing the man without hurting Jesse in the process. The man flipped them both over, Jesse underneath, and another thump hit the floor beside them.

Then the guy screamed, and Jesse lost his grip on his wrist. He felt the hardness of the barrel before the bullet made its way into his thigh. The man brought the gun up a moment before Jesse heard the thwip of a final arrow and the gurgle of blood. The man fell forward, and another shot rang out, and this time the bullet went into Jesse’s abdomen.

Everything was still and quiet for a long time, Jesse thought, but he was also losing a lot of blood. It could have been chaos for all he knew. He felt hands on his face, and jolted.

“Relax, Jesse. Shit.” There was some angry Japanese that Jesse couldn’t make out at the moment, but he heard Hanzo yell out Genji’s name. “We need to get out of here. Make a path to the extraction point and have Angela on standby.” Jesse had a feeling he wasn’t talking to him, but he couldn’t see who else he could be talking to. “Stay with me, Jesse.”

“What’re ya talkin’ ‘bout? Feel fine.” Jesse slurred out, letting out a chuckle along with some blood.

“Your eyes are bleeding.” Jesse heard Hanzo say in a confused tone. “Jesse? Can you see me?”

“Yeah, ‘course. You’re as beautiful as ever, Han.” Jesse joked, reaching a hand up in the direction of Hanzo’s voice to cup his face. He missed the first time, but managed the second.

“How many fingers am I holding up?” Hanzo questioned.

“Three.” Jesse said confidently, a grin sliding across his lips.

“I didn’t even move my hand, Jesse. Shit.” Jesse’s heart clenched, but he kept a smile. His body started to go numb, fingers tingling. But then he heard another voice that made him jump.

“Quick. We need to leave.” It was Genji. There were suddenly hands on him, lifting him up, and Jesse groaned in pain. It was met with swift apologies as they basically manhandled him out of the base and into the waiting aircraft. It was a flurry of activity after then. Jesse didn’t remember much, except Angela’s soothing voice and a hand in his.

He woke up two days later in the medbay at Gibraltar to darkness and shifting shadows. The smell of antiseptic and the soft beeping of a heart monitor clued him in to where he was. He jolted when he felt hands on him, but they were cautious and soft.

“Ange?” He groaned, the sudden movement pulling on and hurting his wounds. Jesse could still taste blood.

“I’m here, Jesse.” She hushed him, making sure he was settled and comfortable. They sat in silence for a moment, Angela’s hands making their way down to Jesse’s flesh one, stroking his skin with her thumb and squeezing every so often. Jesse’s jaw clenched at the action, and he struggled when he looked down and couldn’t see it, tears quickly clouding his vision.

He took in a sharp breath and let out a wet chuckle. “So, ya gonna tell me _‘I told ya so’_ , or what, Doc?”

Angela didn’t say anything for a good moment, sweeping the hair out of Jesse’s eyes instead of answering which in turn made Jesse even more choked up. “We both knew the chances of this happening, Jesse.” She finally said, voice grim. “Even I didn’t expect it to be this soon.”

They had been watching his deteriorating vision ever since he joined Blackwatch. Angela even reached out to Jesse a couple times to see how he was doing after Overwatch disbanded, and when the Recall came, he was met with a welcoming smile and an eye exam from the doctor as he walked into the base.

Near the end of his time at Overwatch, she had prescribed him glasses to wear outside of missions. Reading became harder, like his eyes couldn’t focus enough to read the words in front of him. He had trouble in meetings, specifically with the sheets Winston would hand out, squinting and straining his eyes to try and read the words, eventually just ignoring the intel written on the paper until it got him in trouble.

“Can’t read,” Jesse told Winston when he asked if something was wrong, leaning back in his chair, shrugging.

Gabe threw his hands up. He had noticed Jesse becoming more distant in meetings, but an excuse like that was ridiculous. “Bullshit, McCree. Those trashy Western romance novels in your room say otherwise.” Gabe reminded him, calling his bluff.

Jesse leaned forward, about to give Gabe a piece of his mind, but Angela interfered. “Jesse.” She warned, lifting an eyebrow and giving him a glare. His jaw clenched, but he reined himself in, reaching for something inside his pocket. He pulled out a pair of black rimmed glasses and stubbornly put them on, glaring at Gabe.

“Well that explains why your aim sucks, _mijo_.” He chided, playfully.

Jesse wasn’t as playful, spitting out, “Ain’t none of your fuckin’ business, Reyes.”

The room went silent as Jesse and Gabe stared each other down, the atmosphere tense until Gabe threw his hands up again and put his head down, this time in surrender. That was as much of an apology as Jesse was going to get, he knew, so he took it, picking up the intel sheet in front of him and reading.

No one mentioned his glasses again.

But his glasses couldn’t help him now, Jesse thought, head bowed as he tried to control himself. He still could feel a tear or two fall down his cheek, causing him to clench his jaw. He didn’t want Ange to see him like this. But she moved slowly, and then there was a tissue in his hand. Jesse lifted it to his eyes, and wondered if it would be stained red or not.

He was too afraid to ask.

Jesse spent the next couple days staring at what he assumed was the window — with how the light was coming in, he could only guess — collecting his thoughts. It was like he lost his arm all over again, but this time, his pain and grief were out in the open until he learned how to hide it.

He knew there would be visitors. He knew there would be questions. He carefully picked apart himself and tried to glue the pieces back together even though he couldn’t fucking see them. He did his best to fill in the gaps and made sure none of the pieces overlapped, but he could only guess at what his facade looked like. All too suddenly, the bravado and armor he hid behind seemed foreign. 

He was almost glad he couldn’t see the brothers’ faces as he laughed and joked with them when they visited. At least he could pretend his mask was working. And when they left, Jesse also pretended he couldn’t hear their conversation with Angela just outside the door.

“Is it… permanent?” Was the first thing Hanzo asked her, and Jesse closed his eyes as she told him that she didn’t know, but it didn’t look good. He asked about his wellbeing next, because they all knew Jesse looked like shit. His eye was no longer swollen, but Jesse could still feel the blackened green and purple bruises under his eye and along his cheek and jaw. A week of biotics helped stitch his wounds closed, but the bruises remained.

“And his… mental wellbeing?” Genji asked. Jesse sucked in a breath. “He seems…”

“It’s his own way of coping. We just need to be supportive and help in whatever way we can while also listening to his wishes.” Jesse had told her early on that he would not be babied. He would learn the hard way, he decided soon after he had woken up. Until he had Angela bring him dinner and he had no clue what he was eating. After that, he figured he had to ask and be helped in some ways.

Jesse also knew that his schtick wouldn’t last. Ange was playing along, but he knew they were in for a long talk later, if he was ready or not. He did his best to ignore what would happen later and focused on the now. He knew if he began wondering what was going to happen, he would go insane quicker than he already was.

They discussed Jesse being discharged back to his quarters once he could do daily tasks without hurting his wounds. It had been about two weeks after the incident, when they agreed on someone to help Jesse get around the base and help him with other tasks, and maybe just to keep him company.

Hanzo agreed to help Jesse since he wanted some down time to rest between missions. He nearly jumped when he heard Hanzo clear his throat next to him when he was changing out of the hospital gown and into his casuals.

“Should get you Shimadas a bell to wear, Jesus.” He glared over at Hanzo’s dark figure, the tips of his ears warming up as he wondered if he got there before or after he put his pants on. Jesse tugged at his waistband before reaching to the bed to find the shirt Ange got for him. He tugged it on quickly, not liking the fact that Hanzo could see him while Jesse couldn't. He soon realized his mistake, however, when he smoothed out the fabric and could feel the shirt tug on his neck and arms wrong. The heat in his ears soon made its way down to his face. Before Hanzo could say anything, he pulled his arms out of the shirt to spin it around so it was on correctly, putting his arms back through the sleeves. 

“Ready to go?” Hanzo asked, clearly hiding some emotion in his tone. Jesse couldn’t figure out what it was, but he nodded instead of questioning it. He tensed as he felt a hand wrap around his elbow, but he let Hanzo lead him nonetheless. He couldn’t exactly walk the base by memory alone.

They stopped by Angela’s office on their way out for Hanzo to get Jesse’s release instructions and some biotics for Jesse’s lingering pain. After a hug from Ange, Hanzo walked him to the barracks, Jesse’s right hand on the right wall the entire time, while Hanzo led him on his left.

Counting the doors from the common room to his own, Jesse’s hand slipped up mindlessly to his nameplate next to the door, feeling the bumps of the raised letters and something else below. He wondered what it was when his fingers skipped over the little bumps in the metal, but then realization dawned on him while Hanzo fumbled with the keypad on his door. His heart jumped into his throat when he realized it was braille. Jesse hadn't paid any attention to it before, but feeling the texture of letters he couldn't understand suddenly made this feel all too real.

Hanzo jostled him out of his daze by getting the door open after several attempts at his code. The holopad would have to be changed to one with old fashioned buttons, but Jesse ignored that thought and let Hanzo guide him inside. He sat down on the bed with a huff.

“Would you like anything?” Hanzo said awkwardly, hovering a couple feet away. Jesse put on his brave face and waved him away.

“Maybe pass me that bottle of whiskey on the desk over there?” Jesse grinned, pointing to his desk to the right of him. He was in familiar enough territory now.

Jesse could feel Hanzo’s urge to say something, but then he heard purposeful footsteps towards his desk and soon enough, the bottle was in his outstretched hand.

“Anything else?” Jesse opened the bottle and took a long swig.

“Close the door on your way out, would ya?” Jesse tried to say lightly, but the bite of the alcohol left a burning fire in his tone, one that he hoped Hanzo wouldn’t take personally. He winced anyway.

There was a heavy atmosphere surrounding them now. Jesse could hear his own harsh breaths between them but Hanzo was still silent. The only reason Jesse could tell he was still there was the feeling of him being scrutinized, a prickle on the back of his neck at being watched so closely, and the fact that he didn’t hear the door close.

“Please,” Jesse croaked, voice on the urge of breaking. A dam was building up inside him, and he couldn’t let Hanzo see it break. He wanted to be alone in his own space for the first time in two weeks.

The atmosphere stayed the same, shifting with what Jesse assumed was a nod by a wisp of fabric moving, followed by, “As you wish. Have Athena call me if you need anything.” Footsteps, then a door softly closing.

Jesse counted to ten before he sighed, shoulders and posture slouching down with the weight of emotions flowing over him. He looked at his hands and the bottle, only shadows against the grayness of the sunlight filtering through the blinds above his desk. Squeezing the bottle hard in his grasp, Jesse inhaled a long breath, before letting out a raspy sob that cut through the air and previous atmosphere, instead creating one of its own. A blanket of sadness formed around him, a weight of frustration and desperation crushed down on him until he couldn’t breathe, taking in air only for it to be punched back out of him.

Tears clouded what little vision he had, hands now shaking around the bottle. He couldn’t do this, he thought. A montra of _“I can’t, I can’t, I can’t”_ fell over him, repeating over and over in his head until he had half a mind to reach out onto his bed, grasping for the fabric of his serape. The rough material found its way under his hand, Jesse lowering the bottle to the floor before lifting his serape and burying his face in it. Familiar smells of gunpowder and desert sand swept over him along with the memories of better times.

Jesse never felt as sad as he did in that moment. Dread and a new wave of sobs came over him as he realized he would really never see his home again.

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave a kudos and comment if you enjoyed and would like to read more! Please bug me on Tumblr at: summerdownturn


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